Dark Paths We Walk
by Soser
Summary: After his confrontation with Lord Voldemort, Dumbledore understands he'll need someone help him to find the horcruxes and protect Harry all at the same time. Only a vampire can do it. CHAPTER 9:Pisha, the Nagaraja IS UP! No longer uploading until I get so
1. Meeting the White Wizard

**Summary:** This story is a Crossover between _Harry Potter_ and the videogame _Vampire: Bloodlines_. The action takes place five years after the game's character has decided to join the Camarilla and enter his clan's pyramid and after Harry's fifth year at Hogwarts.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything. Don't ask.

It was midnight, I was inside the chantry's library, researching new spells that I could add to my thaumaturgical knowledge. Maximilian Strauss (the chantry's regent), along with Gary (the Nosferatu primogen), Nines Rodriguez and Jack (the Anarch representatives in Downtown) were having a reunion inside the conferences' chamber.

From what I had heard, they were meeting with a wizard from the United Kingdom, I didn't mind. My mind was fully occupied with my studies. So far, I had mastered alchemy and motus (telekinesis) and was steadily getting used to other disciplines, like aquam and ignem.

I closed the book I had been reading and it floated straight to it's shelve. I had to put the new spells at test before I forgot them; so I started towards the training room. The chantry's hallways were very similar to each other and one could easily be lost; but we, the Tremere clan, were used to that. I reached the room I was searching for, opened the door and saw a tall, brunette vampiress (kindred, I had to remind myself vampires are called kindred) summoning a two feet ice pillar.

Suddenly, The pillar contracted and contorted, forming curves and figures all over it's face. When it stopped, it had transformed into a fine piece of art. "Quite impressive." I applauded her. Serene just turned to face me for a second. Then, without exchanging any words, went back to her work. It was a combination of alchemy and aquam, not very easy to perform, and even more difficult to maintain.

I entered, closed the door, and went to the other end of the room. I would be studying ignem now; and, although I knew my skills weren't enough to melt that pillar even if I tried, it was much safer this way.

I lifted my left hand, opened my palm and started concentrating into what I wanted to happen. A spark emerged from my opened, pale hand; followed by a very small flame. The flame only stood a single inch above my hand while I was trying to lit a fireball, the size you would usually use to throw to an enemy. Serene chuckled, "Not up for the task today, are we?"

"Oh, come on. This is my first try, and you know it." I ignored the fellow Tremere as I flipped through my memory to try and understand why it wasn't working. I was able to lift a wall from the thin air with less effort than the one I was using to lit this... Nothingness. Why?

"You're not putting enough oxygen." Could it be that simple? I looked straight to her face, perplexed, for a second. She wasn't laughing. Well, placing oxygen wasn't that hard... With some more concentration; I did it and, with the so much needed gas surrounding the little fire I had created, it came to life and grew to the size of a bonfire, hot and blazing. It reached to nearly touch my face.

I relaxed a bit and the blaze shrank to the desired dimensions. "So, it was just oxygen?" I turned to face her, but Serene was gone. Well, I could thank her later, if we met. I transformed some of the air into a brick wall and ignited another fireball into my right hand. This would be fun. "I've got lots of it in this very room."

Two hours had passed and, as I was exiting from my bathroom, a towel wrapped around my waist, I heard someone knock my room's main door. "Just a sec!" I summoned a suit out of my wardrobe and dressed quickly.

When I opened the door, I saw yet another of the students in the chantry, he was brown-haired, and rather pale, even for a kindred. I remembered sparring him when we were both studying the motus' secrets. "The regent has summoned you into the meeting."

"Max? Ok, John I'll go at once." The guy nodded and started to the ladders. "Did he say anything else?"

"No, nothing." The most frustrating thing one notices when he starts interacting with the people of my clan is that you can never expect to have a long and pleasant conversation with anyone, except for the chantry's regent, that is. Everyone centers only in their studies of thaumaturgy and the other duties assigned by the elders. If you keep thinking about it, the regent is not that different, after all: Maximilian's duty is to get involved with people.

Sighing, I made my way towards the conferences' chamber. If the news had arrived any other time, maybe I would have taken the news better; but I wasn't in the mood right then, I had spent lots of stamina practicing and I needed blood. It wasn't that I needed it _that_ badly, but the need was still there. However, I would have to ignore it: whatever they were discussing in there, it had taken Camarilla and Anarch representatives to discuss it for two hours and, yet, they needed someone else.

I didn't like that. Last time I had found myself in the middle of a discussion between the Camarilla and the Anarchs, I had ended having a Blood Hunt over my sorry ass. Not an experience I would recommend to anyone, not even an enemy. I was now before the chamber I had been called from.

I knocked and, when I was told so, I entered, closed the door, and bowed before the assistants. Nines and Jack wouldn't like that: it was completely against the Anarch movement to bow before anyone, but I knew they understood. As a member of my clan's pyramid, I had some protocols to follow, and I had fought hard to be accepted as another student of this chantry.

My previous fear was swiftly replaced with confidence and trust. Out of all the kindred I had met so far, these four before me were the only ones I would (and had already) trust my life to.

Gary, the monstrous-looking Nosferatu, wasn't one to condemn people: his specialty was to give information in exchange for whatever he wanted. As far as I was concerned, he couldn't be called a threat... Just a freak.

Max... Well, he was this chantry's regent and he had been the one to offer me a way out of my mess when the Blood Hunt was over me. He was supposed to kill me at sight but, instead, I received his full cooperation. Maybe he did it because he saw that, in the end, it would help him as well. Regardless, if what he had wanted in exchange was me to owe him, he had succeeded in the whole meaning of the word.

Jack and Nines... They had been saving my butt ever since the night of my embracing. If they needed me to jump, I'd jump with all my strength; and they knew it.

There was someone else in the chamber: a very old human with a strong and soothing magical aura around himself. Wrinkles and silvery hair and beard were his trademark physical characteristics, along with a peculiar deep burning on his right hand, which was completely scorched.

I had seen this man once, Albus Dumbledore. He had come to buy an old ring Max had acquired in London. What he wanted now, I didn't know. I chose my next words carefully and directed them to my real superior. "Did you summon me?" Jack shifted his weight with discomfort: he didn't like to hear people sounding submissive. Gary didn't seem as happy-going and carefree as he used to. Something was wrong.

"Ah, here you are." Max waved me to come closer to the reunion. I walked further into the room, but stopped at Dumbledore's same distance from the table: although I was in my territory, this reunion was theirs, not mine. "I'm sure you remember this human from his last visit."

I turned towards the alluded elder and nodded to him. It was more like a slight bow. "Albus Dumbledore. Headmaster of United Kingdom's wizard and wizardry school, Hogwarts."

The old man returned my nod with one of his. "Nice to meet you." His voice was as soothing as his aura, and his heartbeat rate was normal, rather relaxed.

"We've been recently informed that wizard war has exploited upon the United Kingdom and, to some extend, most of the Western Europe." Everyone was looking straight towards me. The Nosferatu with curiosity and amusement, Dumbledore seemed to be measuring me, Jack was bored (he would be better cracking some Sabbat heads) and Nines seemed to be worried. "From what it seems, a very powerful dark wizard called Lord Voldemort has reappeared after some years of being thought dead."

"Normally, we wouldn't interfere, but this Voldemort has since started a huge campaign against those who oppose him, or those who he doesn't like." Well, to me it was like another terrorist, from the magic world. "He's been getting alliances with the giants, some werewolf clans, the dementors, the Sabbat in France and who knows what else."

Now Jack had heard too much: Max wasn't giving me only information, but some prejudices also. "Listen careful, kiddo: this is nothin' agreed in the Camarilla, nor between the Anarchs. You can just say 'not interested' and walk out that door." So, those weren't orders from above... Nines placed a hand on Jack's arm before the old guy's words stepped out of what one could cal a peaceful reunion's limits.

I nodded my thanks to the restless kindred. "Where do I get in?" Gary silenced a laughter, and the human seemed pleased to hear that I could decide to cut the chatter up.

"Dumbledore has come here to ask for some..." I had learned that Max nearly never stopped, or paused, an explanation like that, unless he was hiding something, or seeking for a way to say things without offending anyone. Nearly always, it was both. "Assistance, for his fight against said dark lord."

I didn't face the human, it was clear that this was now a conversation between they and me, with Dumbledore as an spectator. "Then, why do you ask me? Such a request should go up in the chain of command, not down."

I had said what they expected me to say, word by word. I was used to this feeling when dealing with primogens (a primogen is the eldest and most powerfull kindred of his clan in a territory); and I would play along, for the time being. "The human has requested nothing but a single kindred to go there and..."

Max didn't end his sentence: Jack's impatience to tell what was going on beat him. "And babysit a trouble-seeking teenager who just can't avoid putting himself always on the way of fire." I would have liked to see how Max would have said that.

The Tremere primogen didn't like to be interrupted in mid-sentence, but he didn't show it this time; though his speech became slightly quicker and more centered on the main subject. "The boy's name is Harry Potter, and he seems to be the key to destroying that Voldemort." Jack seemed to be going to tell them the best way was to extract the spine from the wizard's back and use it as a bat against his head, but he contained himself.

So, direct approach had already been tested? "Then, why don't they put a wizard to protect the boy?" It was better than seeming prepotent and asking why were they choosing me: they hadn't explicitly said that.

Curious: it was Gary who answered my question. "Only a kindred's mind can never be controlled by the magic wizards use, boss, we are also immune to some other spells mortals aren't. Out of all the kindred, only the Tremere's thaumaturgy is close enough to magic to fake as a wizard." Strange: he was talking directly and coherently, maybe the matter deserved his respect? I made up my mind to take care about which words I used that night. "Boss, you are the only Tremere respected both by the Anarchs and the Camarilla; so, if assistance is to be given, you are to be the first candidate." Politics. Always politics. Politic issues like this one had cost my sire's unlife, and nearly mine.

I had to choose well. Too bad I hadn't followed Jack's advise. "Don't wizards use wands?" It was a question as good as any other.

"We'll provide you with a wand. It's core will be made upon your sire's ashes, so you'll find it a lot easier to canalize your thaumaturgy through it." Max evidently wished me to go. He was pushing me into it as much as diplomacy allowed him before the Anarchs.

Ok, it was clearly not a petition, but a PETITION, in capital letters. "Mortals live their lives during the day." But I might, as well, make sure everything was set before I said 'yes'.

"English weather is not like Santa Monica's: the sun sets sooner, and it's clouded more often. You can also wear sun protective lens, a good layer of sun cream and long clothes, which the usual wizard robes are." I couldn't believe my ears. "Also, you won't be forced to walk outdoors during the day and you will not have to watch the boy constantly."

"I'm not feeding from a bunch of children." I knew I was allowed to say that: blood loss on such a tender age can be dangerous, especially if we consider that the small frame of a teenager hasn't enough blood to satisfy an average famished kindred. This tends to end the encounter with lethal consequences upon the mortal.

"You can keep hunting in London as long as your presence is not directly needed on Hogwarts. When that time arrives, You'll be able to find preys at Hogsmeade, a wizard town very near to the school, and inside the forest beside it." Animals. I was supposed to feed from animals. Well, I had fed from rats before, and it did the trick. I wouldn't say 'no' just because of that.

"Is the Masquerade to be protected from the people on Hogwarts?" A question towards everyone's needs. It was time I stopped thinking only for myself.

"No. The wizard world knows completely everything about our existence and our clans, though average wizards are more familiar with the Sabbat than the rest of us, so you'll have it easier if you keep the knowledge of your nature to a minimal group." Max's advise was a very good one, indeed.

I remembered how accurately Jack had described the way Sabbat think: It's like saying 'Hey! We're vampires! Let's bring hell on Earth so we can feel big and bad... Huh? I'm dead! How did that happen?' If the wizards thought that all the kindred were Sabbat, It would be really wise not to let them know of my... Condition.

Nines spoke up for the first time since I had arrived. "Time's over, kid. You've got to decide now: say 'yes', or 'no'." He was pressuring me on purpose. He wanted me to rebel against an imposition, to show that I hadn't become just another Camarilla puppet.

The true options he wanted me to choose from were either 'no', or 'yes, but with my conditions...' I chose the last one. "Only if I receive whole information about my mission, including the whys and hows..." The Anarchs seemed pleased to see that I hadn't become a puppet. The rest of the assistants simply nodded. "And, if I feel that I no longer want to continue, you'll let me come back as if nothing had ever happened."

This made it. Everyone in the chamber, except the human, started to discuss what I had just said. After a short debate, though, they concluded my conditions were acceptable and Dumbledore agreed to come back to take me to UK next night, so I'd be able to get ready.

When the reunion finished, the only coherent words I could think about were: 'I could use a drink'.

So, how was it? R&R, please!


	2. The Calm Before the Storm

**Author's note:** There is none: just read, enjoy (or not) and tel me what's good and what's bad so I can be bad (glares around). Err... I mean... So I can improve it (sweats heavily).

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything. Don't ask again.

I was in a blind alley, concealed in the darkness, savoring the warm metallic fluid that restored my strength little by little. Who would have guessed the blonde woman's blood type was O, my favorite? Eventually, my bloodthirst came to an end; but I kept sucking for a while longer, knowing that her life wouldn't be at risk even if I completely satiated myself. I would need her blood in the days to come, and she wouldn't remember anything but a harmless kiss.

When I was done, I placed my hand over the wound I had opened on her neck and it disappeared instantaneously. Her eyes were shut tight and she was sleeping peacefully. She would wake up very soon, though. I gently (didn't need to harm her, after all) placed her on the ground so she would think she had just passed out and left.

I had a tight schedule to comply tonight: I had to get myself a gun (Tremere can't always rely on thaumaturgy: the more we use it, the faster we get tired and need more blood), silver to make bullets (just in case: werewolves _are_ lethal for kindred), and a sword (I had noticed that we, kindred, along with many other creatures of the night, are more vulnerable against a fine swordsman than against a sharp shooter).

Before starting shopping, yet, I dropped myself into a the Last Round: it was one of the most popular Anarch gathering points. I entered and went over the stairs to the end, climbed them up and greeted Skelter, a tall and muscular black man. "Hey! How're ya doing?"

Skelter was as calm as always. "Fine, tell me: is it true? Are you gonna leave L.A?" I didn't sense any emotion from him.

"Well... That's exactly why I've come." I trailed, "are Jack or Nines here? I'd like to know their opinion about that." Skelter replied they hadn't show up yet, and it was most provable they wouldn't do so that night. I said my good-byes and left to start my preparations, since they couldn't wait any longer.

When I came back to the chantry it was nearly already dawn, but I had everything I would need: two double eagles (with enough ammo to take down a giant), a titanium katana (easy to use and very difficult to break) and a box full of silver bullets. I used motus to make everything float to my room and directed myself towards the one I could feel Max from.

I entered the room, bowed towards him and waited for Max to speak. "You've taken your time..." The regent wasn't angry: he was only stating facts. "Have you found everything you required?"

I nodded, and he answered with a warm smile. He was keeping something."Honestly, why have you offered assistance to Dumbledore? And why were you so interested in me accepting this mission?"

Max was... Shocked, to say the least. "And why would you assume I've got any interest in the matter?"

I expected this question, and such, I had the answer ready: "To begin with, this wasn't any Anarch-Camarilla agreement: it was between you and Dumbledore, with the Nosferatu primogen as a necessary complement for your plans -Nosferatu's network has every bit of information I'd need to be properly briefed, hasn't it? Jack and Nines were there only because I trust 'em, and I wouldn't be so cooperative if they were left out of the loop."

His expression was that of a proud father. It was the same face he would put when any Tremere on his chantry learned anything important, like one of the most thaumaturgic powerful charms. "For one so young and so unexperienced, you've got a very good perception towards subterfuge, fledgling."

I had to laugh at that. "Unexperienced? I've learned my lessons well, Max; the hard way." Now it was Max's turn to let a laughter escape his lips. "Seriously, you wouldn't be working so hard to make me go unless the clan's best interests were in stake."

I had struck home, and Max didn't try to do anything to hide that. Had he planned I'd do so? I could never take this feeling out of me whenever I spoke with elders, really frustrating. "They certainly are." He walked over to a shelve with multiple vases on it, took a handful of something on one of them and threw it to the air: ash.

It began to twist on midair and concentrated into a single object on the only desk in the room: a wand, my wand. "As you surely remember from your studies, we Tremere descend from a group of mages who used archaic magic to convert themselves into vampires." He took an amulet and placed it above the wand for ten seconds; muttering, at least, five protecting thaumaturgical spells. "However, during the process, they lost their magic powers and had to develop thaumaturgy, which is the magic we use nowadays.

I nodded. He was glad I didn't even try to interfere his speech. "But, ever since, the wizarding world has been developing new spells, charms and potions, very different to the wandless archaic magic our ancestors lost." He handed me my new wand, and I kept staring at it.

Suddenly, it hit me: "You want me to... Discover if we can get access to this new magic? To get the potions' recipes and every knowledge we can use to increase our power?" This was too much. Not a single Tremere had ever had access to 'normal' magic since the beginning of our times and, now he wanted me to do it.

"Understand that I'm not asking you anything out of your capabilities: even in the worst of cases, they will be more than glad to share any knowledge they have with you _and_ I'm sure some of it may be used even by us." He was making sense, at lest to me. I felt myself relaxing a bit.

"How much will suncream and sun lenses protect me?" My most feared inconvenient. I needed his advise on that.

"Only from indirect sun radiation, or when it's clouded or not too strong." As I feared. "If anyone, by any mean, tries to make you go outdoors without those conditions, find a way out of it. Even if it takes you to bare your fangs and explain why you can't." Well, at least Max would understand if I did that, given the situation.

It was time to get down to politics. "Who's England's Prince?" In the Camarilla, a Prince is the kindred that holds a domain over a territory. All the primogens within that territory respond to him and act as some sort of counselors to him or her.

"Normand Nicklaus, you'll find everything relating on how to contact him and how are the political affairs in England going inside this disc." Max gave me a DVD, provably made by the Nosferatu, and let me return to my room so I could study it.

** Author's note:** Yeah I know, I know. Short chapter... Even so, how was it? Pleeeeease, tell meeeee.


	3. Privet Drive, number 5

**Author's note:** Err... I had something planned to write here... Where's the paper? Where's it? Anyway, since it seems I can't find it, I'll just say that I don't know what I'm saying because what I had planned to say is something completely different from what I'm saying now that I don't remember what I wanted to say. (Glares around) Sooo... Read and -remember to review- ahem, enjoy.  
**Disclaimer:** (Sighs) No, no and no. I don't own anything. Period.

I had to force my eyes to keep open. In order to read the whole DVD before Dumbledore arrived, I had had to keep awake the whole day and I truly felt like shit right then.

The Nosferatus had really put some info here: Loads and loads of it. Everything from the possible sun shelters I could find in all U.K. to how to distinguish between a wizard and a muggle (non-wizard mortal), passing through everything relating both kindred and wizarding political situations on the island. I was tired.

The sun was setting. I powered off my PC and equipped myself with the few things I would really need: I was wearing dark blue jeans, with my sword tied to the belt, a white shirt, with my two guns holstered on either side, and a long black coat that kept me looking quite normal (I had my wand inside the coat's right pocket and the ammo, sun lenses and suncream inside a bag).

I opened the fridge, took my last bloodpack and drank it greedily, feeling the blood bubbling inside of me, lifting me up. Although I was still tired, this would keep me up for the rest of the night.

When I exited to the chantry's hall, Max and Dumbledore were already there, waiting for me. Max spoke up: "Have you got everything you need?" I nodded. There was no need for long speeches now.

The human gestured me to come closer and so I did. "I will apparate us to Privet Drive, number 5. I've already set everything so you can use the house as yours. When you are ready, grab my arm so we can go. The left one if you don't mind: as you can see, my right arm is not precisely healthy right now."

I stood at the wizard's left and bowed towards my regent, "May your wisdom forever grow."

Max nodded with a slight bow, "May your blood last you long." It was usual amongst the Tremere to bless others' fates before one of us went to accomplish a mission that involved death.

When Max's sentence ended, I grabbed, gently but securely, Dumbledore's arm. "I'm ready when you are, sir."

The following thing that I noticed was that it was all black; I felt a strong pressure that came from all the directions. Luckily for me, I didn't need to breathe, because, had I needed to, I wouldn't have been able to: it was as if iron chains were tightened around my chest.; my ocular globes twisted in my head; I felt that the eardrums were going to break; the beast reacted with total rejection to that feeling and I had to put my whole will trying not to frenzy and soon... I suddenly could feel my feet touching ground again. The beast calmed down.

I felt as if they had put to me through a very narrow rubber tube by force. I opened my eyes to see that we were still indoors... But we weren't in the chantry anymore: we were standing now behind a brown coach. It had another identical coach to it's right, forming an L, and was placed in front of a television. I glanced around. There was a French door to the first coach's left, which led to a hallway with a staircase. Behind of us, between a shelve and a desk, there was another door.

It was the perfectly typical normal living room. "Where are we?" I turned to face Dumbledore, who's stare told me we were in England. Privet Drive, number five.

Suddenly, I caught another blood scent... It smelled like an animal's blood, but it was just too like human's to come from an animal. A cat was sitting on the second sofa I had noticed. "You're not a cat." I hesitated if I should show wariness or politeness. Decided for the second option. "Mind showing what you really are?"

The so called cat jumped out of the coach and changed itself in midair, landing casually as a very stern-looking woman in her late sixties or early seventies. If I had thought Dumbledore had wrinkles before, now I knew I had been exaggerating: _she_ had wrinkles.

"Mind telling me how did you notice?" Although she was only doing a non-offensive question, her voice showed her stern personality a lot.

I shrugged. "Your blood scent: you've managed to make it smell almost like an animal's, but it's still too much human not to notice." She was shocked.

The woman stared me intently on the face and I could start to hear her heartbeat picking up speed. She quickly draw a wand and pointed it at me. I didn't seem to move, but I was ready to freeze her lungs' air. It would be an efficient way to choke her spell before she'd be able to cast anything on me. "Watch out! He's a vampire!"

The old man stepped in and gently lowered the woman's wand with his left wand. "Nothing to be afraid of, Minerva: he's not from the vampires who have joined Voldemort." The woman, Minerva, looked more frustrated and angry towards Dumbledore than to me now.

She waved her hand in frustration. "What are you thinking about, Albus? Is he the help you said you'd need?" She seized me suspiciously. Maybe was she fearing I'd go frenzy on them, just like that? "You've got to be kidding! A vampire is more likely to join them than us!"

Her stern stare and her behavior were starting to make me tired. Maybe it was time for me to show her some 'vampire politeness'? "Kindred, please." Both humans kept staring me.

"What?" She seemed disgusted that I had spoken. Maybe she had forgotten bloodsucking monsters can still talk and think?

"We call ourselves -and prefer to be known as- kindred, not vampires; like you prefer to be called humans, not kine." Minerva seemed bewildered; Dumbledore, amused. He understood I could handle myself, stepped back and sat on the first sofa, which had magically been turned to face us.

For the looks at both human's faces, I understood I was doing well. "And it's also a common preference of both kindred and human individuals to be called by their name. I'm Robert Kellehan, second-class student at LA's Tremere chantry, nice to meet you." I did a complete bow, this time.

When I finished bowing, I stared intently right into her eyes, so she could remember that she was supposed to introduce herself. She calmed down a bit (I didn't stop having my freezing spell at the ready, just in case) and did a very slight bow, eye contact never being lost. "Professor Minerva McGonagall, adjunct headmaster at Hogwarts."

"And now that introductions are properly made," interrupted Dumbledore with a very friendly voice, "why don't we all sit down and discuss everything we must in a warm and friendly talk?" McGonagall nodded and sat at the second sofa, which moved towards us to invert the L form in which they were first placed.

I used motus on the desk's chair so it would come to me and simply sat down at the same point I had been since we had apparated there. "Very well, I've been told you needed my assistance and I've been given enough reasons for me to do as much as I can..." McGonagall nodded, possibly analyzing the info I was giving to ask smart questions later.

I had to be careful when dealing with her. "But I must ask you two things: why did you come to seek a kindred in LA when there're plenty of them in the UK, and why didn't you ask for someone more powerful?"

Again... Dumbledore _had_ expected me to say that. Ok, point taken: I decided not to worry about it and just keep moving. Thinking about those things only made them more frustrating, after all. "There aren't any Tremere in London and the fact that I had first acquired that ring in LA had given me the first opportunity I had ever had to talk with one of your clan."

I was about to repeat my second question, but there was no need. "About your power... Your clan's council would never had approved an elder to go to the front lines. Just when I was going to give up, your regent told me you were nearly fully fledged and had a good amount of combat experience. Quite odd, if I may say. Could you explain how much you know about the subject?"

"I was-"Dumbledore's face showed genuine curiosity, it was really appealing to just tell him everything he wanted to know." -Embraced out of the clan's pyramid. My sire didn't ask permission to embrace me, so he was considered a traitor and killed instantly." Both humans were completely silent, awaiting to hear my story. I preferred to summarize it, since it was very long. "I was spared, but deserved no place amongst my clan. I started working for the local Prince, doing some deliveries here and there."

McGonagall seemed to want to ask which deliveries I was doing, but I cut her off and continued. "It turned out the Prince -Sebastian Lacroix- was blinded by power, and wanted to get more by diablerising an Antediluvian kindred which was sleeping inside an ancient sarcophagus. I didn't know that, but I was gathering my clues and getting suspicious."

This time, the woman had to stop me. "What's this diablerie and the Antediluvian you are talking about?" Of course, humans don't know about Gehenna (the vampires' version for the Apocalypse)...

I tried to appease her curiosity without touching the subject. "Diablerie is what we call when a kindred drains dry another kindred. It gives the drainer the victim's full powers, but it's seen as humans see cannibalism. A diablerist's punishment is death."

"So, Lacroix tried to have you killed... The Blood Hunt, perhaps?" The old man was as smart as I first thought he was. I nodded. Professor McGonagall seemed to be satisfied with my answers by then.

So far, so good. Previous experience told me it was wiser to show interest in the task others wanted you to do and agree with payment later. "Now, the assistance you need... Tell me more about it."

"We'll provably need more from you than we can plan tonight..." Dumbledore, again, was the one to speak. "But, mostly, I will need you to help me find some objects that may be crucial to destroy Voldemort," Finding 'important' objects... Had done that before, but a Nosferatu should do it better. "enhancing Hogwarts' security spells with your thaumaturgy and, of course, any help you can give to defeat the Death Eaters will be very welcome."

Death Eaters? I had read that before... Oh, yes, Voldemort's servants. "You mean, hunt them down?" By the humans' faces, he didn't mean me to kill them or to hunt them as if they were animals, but they would allow me to do so. "Ok. No problem... As long as you don't ask for perfection, but my effort." Both humans nodded.

I took a glimpse at my watch: nine pm. I had to hurry and be acknowledged by the local Prince as soon as possible. "Who'll tell me when to come to Hogwarts?"

Dumbledore understood my worries, so he followed my cue to end the meeting. "Your contact will be Professor McGonagall. Until then, I'd recommend you to look on the books on the library behind you. They are, indeed, an interesting reading, if I may say so."

He gave me one of those glances that meant more than a thousand words and I immediately knew that what I'd find in them would be very useful for my staying in UK. I turned to have a closer look on the shelves behind me and heard a slapping sound. Maybe... No, when I glanced over the wizards, they were gone: that sound had to be the one a wizard does when apparating. I would remember it, just in case.

I exited the house, walked for three minutes to the east and took out my wand when nobody was looking. Holding it high in the sky, I saw a magical bus appear running out of nowhere. I had to thank the Nosferatu primogen for the accurate data his DVD contained.

I stepped out of the bus and waved goodbye to the driver. It was only a quarter past eleven, but I had returned home shortly after being accepted by Prince Nicklaus because I had some real work to do: I was sure I would have to end up faking as a wizard but I knew only so much about their world...

Dumbledore came out from the house I was supposed to protect, accompanied by a slim, tall boy, provably sixteen, who had a powerful aura for his age. I bent down and hid in the shadows. The boy was black haired and green eyed. He had a lightning scar on his forehead. I heard Dumbledore ask him to retrieve his invisibility cloak from the chest they were carrying with magic. Wait a moment: the old man had called him Harry!

I made sure I remembered his blood's smell just before they disappeared. Afterwards, and before returning into my new home, I heard a huge commotion coming from number four and peeked through the neighbor's living room: the Dursleys (a fat man, a horse-faced woman and a real, real fat boy) were all shouting and screaming.

From the few coherent things I could catch from their 'civilized conversation' (please, read this with especial irony) I managed to understand they considered anything related to magic (even it's name) as dangerous as a threat to their lives. "And I've got to protect such idiots? Haven't even started, and already hate the job." I returned home silently and made sure not a single sun beam would filter inside my bedroom before starting to study the wizarding culture.

Awww, come on! Write just a review, a little one... I'd really want to know what you guys think, so, in the future, I can lengthen the parts you like the best and skip the ones that you simply feel boring. R&R, pleaseeeee!


	4. Blood rituals

**Author's note:** (Bored, sees the review Maid of Many Names has written) YAY! I've got a review! (Starts dancing in joy for a while. When calms down, reads it) Yeah, I found myself with my jaw on the floor when I didn't find any fanfic about this game, too. That's exactly why I couldn't stop thinking about writing something -anything- about it. Since I didn't find any fanfic, I thought there weren't any readers, though; so that's why I decided on a crossover blending another world for which I already had a story like this in stock.

For the ones who don't know about it, I'll try to explain **everything** and, for the ones that, like you, have played the videogame, I'll be throwing in some events, objects and characters directly from that masterpiece. Hope you like it and, if any character comes close to Mary Sue, PLEASE, WARN ME! Thanks.

**Disclaimer:** (Vein on the forehead starts convulsing like Vernon Dursley's) I DON'T OWN ANYTHING! HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO SAY THAT! (remembers he's the one who has written 'disclaimer:' to begin with) Hum... Yeah... Eh... Sorry.

* * *

My eyes opened wide as soon as the sun disappeared in the horizon. I was in a poorly decorated bedroom: there were only the bed I was lying on, a wardrobe to my right and, between them, a curtained window.

I got up, exited the room by it's only door and walked to the left. I passed the bathroom and descended the stairs to my right. Once I reached down, I turned right walked the hallway to the end and got into the kitchen. There, I retrieved a glass from the fridge and a knife from the shelve and went through the other door, to the living room. I picked up a potions book and left to the first floor.

From the stair's end, there was another hallway with four doors: the nearest let to the bathroom; the second, to my bedroom; the third was a spare room. I went to the fourth.

I closed the door behind me and made sure the room was alright. The only window was sealed (the bricks on the wall showed where it had once been, but nothing else), and the lamp that hung from the ceiling didn't lit the empty room properly. That's why I had chosen it for this particular use: furniture would only be a nuisance and curious eyes weren't something I wished.

I knelt, placed the glass on the floor, my left hand above it and made a deep, long cut on it. I waited for the glass to be filled and stopped the bleeding, letting my undead body close the wound I had inflicted it (kindred heal _much_ faster than humans). Satisfied, I soaked a finger in the blood and, with it, painted an X on the door. "Ego protego... Cubiculum protego... I protect this room with my blood. Ego protego... No one enters, no one knows. Cubiculum protego... I choose the exceptions, no one else. Ego protego... Only the sun, high on the sky, shall break my words. Cubiculum protego." These words, I whispered them under my breath, completing the protecting ritual. Maybe it could be simplified by just saying cubiculum protego, but by saying the whole thing one could ensure it was really safe: not even a werewolf would be able to break that door now.

I turned and watched the room's floor. There was a three feet diameter circle at it's very center. It displayed an intricate image mixed with ancient words and runes, all in red. Glass in hand, I knelt before it and poured the glass' contents along it's outer rim. I stopped when there was only a single drop left. "Glyph, you who have been made by my blood, open." And, with that, I poured the remaining blood drop on it's center.

The red liquid fell to the ground and expanded in a circular motion, filling the whole glyph in red. "L.A. The chantry. Maximilian Strauss." The red surface started to change it's color until I could see a ceiling through a red haze. "Max? Are you there?"

"... sky, shall break my words. Cubiculum protego." Max had just finished his protecting ritual. "Robert, I sense you have widened the glyph's channel. May I know your reasons?" Max's bald head appeared inside the circle on my floor. It was like looking at him while wearing red glasses.

I showed Max the book I had taken from my shelve. "Already memorized it and tested the simplest one, without my body rejecting the non-blood liquid. They work without needing magic and some of them can be very useful."

"You know a single kindred cannot widen a glyph enough for matter to pass through it." Max's hand went to his goatee while he lost himself in his thoughts. "Nonetheless... You have widened it enough for me to be able to finish the job. Provided you, the owner, let my blood alter your work."

The only drawback it could bring was that Max'd be able to reopen or close the gliph whenever he wanted. "That would be a welcomed improvement." At hearing my words, Max bared and cut his wrist, pouring some of his elder blood into the glyph I had made.

"Voce et voluntas sati non sunt. Your master made you, I fed you. Hear my command: let my blood enhance your power." It was my cue to follow the ritual.

"I'm your master and he is too," I cut my index finger and a small amount of blood fell to the glyph's center. "Voce et voluntas sati non sunt: let the mater flow through you." Air flew from the glyph and its surface changed into a more liquid-like appearance. "Euhh... Has it worked?"

Max got up and disappeared from my field of view. "I've recently received a spare copy of healing rituals." His face returned into he glyph. He had a book in his hand. "Let's see how this works." He placed said book on his end of the glyph and it came floating towards me. Once it had come close enough, I reached my hand into the 'hole' and took it.

I flipped through the rituals book's pages and found out it hadn't been altered by passing through the glyph. "Excellent. Do you want the potions book now?" Max simply smiled while I placed my book on the glyph's very center. It sank until it got to my regent's arm reach. Then, he took it and, repeating my actions, flipped through his new book's contents.

"You have successfully secured new knowledge for our clan, Robert Kellehan. You can no longer be referred as a fledgling: you are a full, independent member of our clan's pyramid." I had proved my loyalty to the clan before, and I had been accepted; but now I was 'independent': I had gained the right to become primogen (if given the case I decided to stay in a city where I was the eldest or most powerful of my clan who wished to hold the title) and I could ask a Prince permission to sire. I had been waiting for this moment for five years. "Now, formalities apart: do you require anything from this chantry?"

I kept thinking for a moment until I made up my mind: "There will surely occur direct confrontations. I'd find useful to have my Odious Chalice with me." This time, Max **did** look surprised... His emotions had always been difficult to read: was it anger or wariness on his face? Or maybe, I almost hoped, it was a visual effect the red surface separating us gave to his always relaxed expression?

"The Odious Chalice, you say? And why would you wish to have a Tzimisce's doing on your hands?" The Tzimisce were a kindred clan that had mastered the power of Vicissitude (crafting flesh and bone at their will). They powers were amazingly horrifying; and the relationship between our clans was that of the sun and a vampire.

"I like to give 'em their own medicine." I paused to emphasize my next words: "To use my enemie's powers against them." Max's expression relaxed at hearing this.

"Oh, you certainly learned your lessons well, Robert. But remember this: while the Odious Chalice will take the spilled blood during battles and allow you to drink it, the chalice will also decrease your thaumaturgy's effectiveness, for it won't find any difference between your blood and your enemies'."

"Not if I put it into a plastic bag when I need to use strong thaumaturgy." Max chuckled at my response while he got up and disappeared from my field of view, only to return a moment later with something circular in his hand. He passed the object to me and I put it aside.

"May your blood last you long." With that, he closed his glyph's end. The circle on the floor got drained from its periphery to the center, leaving place to more and more floor painted with red marks.

I grabbed the object and unwrapped it from the white plastic bag it was enveloped with. I was greeted by the sight of a piece of semi-rotten flesh with what seemed like a pig's eye staring directly into my eyes: the Odious Chalice. Its smell didn't betray any trace of blood: it was empty. I suddenly remembered I hadn't refilled it since I had needed to drain it dry five years ago, during the Blood Hunt.

I enveloped the chalice again, took the glass and knife to the kitchen, went back upstairs, dressed up and put the chalice in my coat's left pocket. My wand was in the right one.

I descended the stairs and went to the living room's desk. I read again the letter I had received last night and smiled: two hours to go to Hogwarts. I had been the Dursleys' neighbor for a single week, but I was really itching to get out of Privet Drive.

I exited home and walked down the street. I took that weird magical bus and, five minutes later, I was in a very concurred street in the middle of London. Damn it, I WAS famished. I started looking for preys almost immediately.

Two hours and three bitten necks later found me running home again from the point where the bus had left me. I was late... I didn't know this McGonagall witch too well, but I just knew she'd be pissed. I dashed to the door, unlocked and opened it, entered, closed the door, locked it (why

did I have to do so many things every time I was in a hurry? Sometimes I wished I'd be one of those vampires who could count in Celerity. Man, those guys could always be real fast.) and walked into the living room, to my left.

Sure enough, as soon as I stepped into the living room, I was greeted by the ever stern Minerva McGonagall, with a very angry look on her face, wand in hand (I took note the wand wasn't pointing at me, though) "You took your time. Isn't punctuality a part of polite kindred customs, maybe?"

I amused myself giving the human an exaggerated bow. The awkwardness her heart rate always betrayed she felt whenever I showed extreme courtesy only made me be unable to stop doing so. It was fun, and it wasn't that it'd hurt the woman to see that a younger bloodsucker could be more polite than her, anyway. "Good evening to you too, ma'am. I apologize if I wasn't able to do everything I had to before the sunset but, you see, my skin is a bit sensitive and feeding takes its time -especially if you don't wish to drink too much from anyone." I paused a bit and, when she was going to start speaking, I cut her off: "As I remember, human don't wish to rush their meals too much, either."

McGonagall's mouth snapped shut. It opened and closed again, trying to vocalize something her mind hadn't processed yet. I decided I had had my fun that night and it'd be best not to joke about her current speechlessness -I didn't seek to have her as an enemy, after all. "Students are starting their next year at Hogwarts in a month." McGonagall had decided to bring the conversation into business territory. I accepted her silent call for truce with my silence and full attention. "Dumbledore has requested that you come to Hogwarts and upgrade its defenses as you can. The Magic Ministry has allowed us to take this course of action."

"Protego branch isn't my specialty, and I'm not familiarized with the magics that have been already used to defend the castle; but I could put some traps indoors." I suddenly remembered we were talking about a school. "I'll have to stick to selective thaumaturgy, though... They won't be too strong, so it'd be better to cover the whole school."

McGonagall's lips suppressed a laughter at hearing my commentary. "The whole school? In four weeks? I'd advise you to wait until we arrive there before saying something like that." Was she insinuating I wouldn't be able to cover it in a whole month? Bah, come on. How big could it be? "Are you ready?" I nodded and she walked over me and took my left arm. I panicked once I remembered what she was planning on: apparating. My hopes of it being less hard than the first time banished as soon as the pressure started.

This time, though, the beast did something I'd have never expected: instead of trying to control me and break free of the invisible chains that where crushing my body, it seemed to remember the experience would be over soon and, simply, cut my mind of the rest of my neuronal system, isolating me from the feeling I hated.

It was strange: I could think clearly and coherently, but I couldn't feel or do anything. Like if I had no body. I freaked out and struggled against the isolation the beast had imposed me. Slowly, but steadily, I regained my capability to perceive my surroundings, though I couldn't move: I was just frozen wherever it may be that I was. I felt McGonagall tapping my shoulder impatiently, "Wake up, already!" Her voice arrived my perception sense blurred, as if I were inside a swimming pool. "Vampire? Are you alright? Wake up!" She nipped my cheek.

The faint pain managed its purpose to snap me out of unconsciousness. "Eh, oh? Yeah, what's wrong?"

"What do you mean 'what's wrong'?" McGonagall seemed both incredulous and slightly pissed. "You've been out cold for ten minutes without any apparent reason, so don't give me that line."

"I don't know what you're talking about," I lied, "can we, please, continue?" The witch decided to let me be but, as we started to move, I couldn't keep my mind out of the incident: first time, I nearly frenzied; the second, catatonia... What was happening to me? Apparating... It was just like... But it couldn't be that... My course of thought was abruptly interrupted by the sight before me.

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So... How was it? For now, I'll let you guys imagine what's the matter with Robert's recent paralisis (I'm not writting about this subject 'til chapter 9, or so). Sorry this chapter took so long, I'll try and make it up by being faster at uploading the next ones. Thanks again to my sole reviewer and, to whoever is reading this story without posting any reviews; come on, it's not so hard, just click on the link, write if you liked my story or not so far, and click to 'post review'. You can do it! 


	5. Overwork you not

**Author's note:** Promised is debt, so here you are chapter 5. Nothing else to say: just read and review.

**Disclaimer:** (Thinks) ... (Thinks harder) ... Oh! Yeah! Yes, I do own some of the situations happening here, I've made up Robert Kellehan's name, and some characters I'll surely add as the story progresses. Other than that... (Looks around) Yeah! This computer I'm using to write the story is mine, and so are the pens on my desk, which is also mine... (Remembers readers don't give a damn about that) Hey! That's all I own related to the story! J.K. Beat me at claiming Harry Potter and Activision at Bloodlines... Hell, the best parts of this story (that I'm writing) are someone else's! (Goes off to crush his head into a brick wall). Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! (Censurer censures the autor's next actions. An ambulance sounds in the distance).

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"Holy shit..." We were now standing on a huge grass field, but what had caught my attention weren't the field, the lake in the distance or the mysterious looking forest on my left: "It doesn't matter how fast I work: a month's not enough to secure half of it." 

An enormous castle stood, magnificent, on the top of the hill that decorated the field's very center. "We don't expect you to do that, mister Kellehan. It will be enough with whatever you can do."

As we continued walking, McGonagall's words had a soothing effect on me. I grew to respect the old woman from that very moment. I continued wondering and silently theorizing about why apparating had had those effects on me, if they would ever stop happening and, more important, how would apparating affect other Tremere while we continued walking.

I recalled the pressure I had felt while apparating. "... worse than a lift..." As I started to understand why the beast reacted so badly, the woman gave me a strange look. "Huh... Nothing, just thinking." She seemed to want to know more but, luckily for me, she dismissed it as an unnecessary argument.

As we approached the castle, its doors opened to reveal a very grumpy janitor who, after complaining about some Peeves person tying some lady called Miss Norris to the ceiling upside-down, presented himself as Flitch. After the usual freaking out after knowing about my... Condition and, after some quick explanations and McGonagall telling him Dumbledore was the one who had asked me to come, the witch managed to make him stop reciting the Bible and crossing his fingers and tell us Dumbledore wasn't there but had asked me to start working as soon as I got in.

We entered the Hall and left the guy, who had kept mumbling about putting Miss Norris a garlic necklace (didn't he know garlic tasted bad, but nothing else?) I had doubted all the wizards knew about what is actually a vampire but, now, I started to think the general knowledge between wizards maybe wasn't much better than that of the muggles.

The Big Hall was exactly what I had expected from a castle as magnificent as this: high ceiling, lots of paintings and portraits (with moving personages? Oh, well, it was magic), A big statue, some knight armors on the walls (did their heads turn towards me no matter where I were?), a huge, smooth carpet on the floor, enviable curtains... Why was I feeling so wary? I felt surrounded, caged, watched, threatened... I couldn't put the finger on what it was, but something was wrong. " Professor McGonagall?" I decided to give my first hypothesis a try. The alluded turned towards me, drew her wand and pointed it to my undead heart.

I tensed, but I couldn't summon the will to do anything about the menacing object. I couldn't summon thaumaturgy, I couldn't grab my guns or my own wand, I couldn't reach to my katana, duck, jump, walk or even bare my fangs and hiss: I was completely and utterly defenseless. "Acceptance!" A golden beam erupted from the woman's wand and I immediately felt... Much better... Whatever had been wrong in this castle was still there, but the being or charm had simply stopped minding me. "Now the school's defenses won't trigger on you. Take this map," she made a movement with her wand and a paper appeared from the thin air, "and choose whatever defenses you put by yourself. Don't tell me or anyone what or where are they, but make sure they won't trigger on students and professors."

I took the paper she gave me and was left alone. I scrutinized it for five minutes, deciding it'd be best to start by the most concurred places both during day and night, to protect as many and as much time as possible.

Dawn found me a week later drawing a small circle with ancient runes and symbols on it with a reg liquid in a glass I had conjured (to conjure is to create something from the thin air through thaumaturgy). I jumped off the witch statue and fell to the corridor's floor. "... And here goes another on the ceiling..." I watched pridefully the glyph I had just made. Well, the truth is that I was watching where I knew the glyph was, because I couldn't see it. So far, I had put some in the used classes, the dining room, the four Houses' main rooms and, earlier, that same night...

"Robby has painted the lobby! Robby has painted the lobby! Hahahahaha!" I didn't need to turn around to know who was floating around behind me: that childish voice could only belong to Peeves, Hogwarts' only (thanks to whoever is in charge up there) poltergeist, and my O.P.A. (Official Pain in the Ass) during the past week. "Bad bloodsucker, bad! You know, painting the walls may be fun, but it's MY fun." Obviously, the little guy had discovered the glyphs I had put there.

"Oh, shaddup, Peeves!" The joker looking poltergeist flew from side to side, laughing.

"And why would I do that, neck drainer?" I didn't even considered offering him a deal: I was tired of the hyperactive being.

" 'Cause, if you keep bothering me, I'll seal you again in an empty room." Peeves stood there, in midair, shocked; provably remembering the experience he had had two nights after my arrival to the school (hey! He had it coming! Who said I were a saint, anyways?). "AND, this time, I won't breack the seal for a year."

Obviously, there was no way I could manage to do that: the sealing protego thaumaturgy is always canceled at dawn or the contact with fire, no matter how hard you try to keep it up. Peeves, however, had no way to know that little detail. "You... You wouldn't dare!" If a poltergeist's face could pale, his would be the palest ever existed.

I grinned. "Ooh, you think so? Ok." I faked going to wet my finger in the glass, "Just don't blame me: you had it coming. Especially after what happened last time..."

"NOOOOOO!" He floated at top speed here and there, without knowing where to go. Peeves must have felt ridiculous, because he suddenly stopped, composed himself and started to talk as mockingly as ever. "Ehem... You're not fun anymore, I guess I'll just go and play with Flitch." Poor Flitch! The poltergeist flew (a bit faster than usual) though the ceiling and I stopped being able to see it. I was sure the poor janitor was going to have a very harsh awakening... Awakening! Just what hour was it?

I picked up my coat, put it on, and started running towards the nearest entrance to the dungeons. The sun hadn't entered through th windows yet, but I could feel it rising on the horizon. A feeling I didn't like on the least.

Dizziness clouded my mind and I had to stop to take a break. "Damn! Used more blood than I thought... And the Odious Chalice's still empty..." Kindred, being walking corpses as we are, don't need to sweat or breath (though we use to do the last, even if it's useless) but, if we did need to do so, I'd be doing both heavily. Fighting the beast, who was trying to gain control and search for blood by itself, I glanced the hallway before me.

Deadly sun beams were now starting to enter the windows and block my pass. I'd have to avoid them touching my skin or I'd become an overwork victim. "Gotta run fast now... It's at times like these I'd like having Celerity..." It was true: if I took too long to reach the dungeons, I'd end up caught between sun beams and, eventually, I'd find a rather painful and silly Final Death.

I gulped and started running again. The adrenaline flowing in my veins, mixing with my vampiric blood, affected it so I had a temporal increase of dexterity and agility. Enough to avoid the lethal rays that barred my way. I'd flatten to the wall, jump above low beams and roll under the high ones. Those I couldn't avoid crossing through, I used my leather coat to protect my skin from. I managed to reach the lower levels of Hogwarts even faster than I had first expected: no matter what you do, without celerity and without frenzying there's no way for a vampire to run so fast (twice the normal). Had I frenzied? The beast had surfaced? Why, then, hadn't I felt like it wasn't me the one controlling my body? Perhaps because I, like the beast, was just trying to come here, to survive...

I didn't know why, but I was certain that, at some point, the beast had surfaced and influenced my actions. This wasn't good: the beast only takes over because of too much hunger, fury or pain. If it was influencing my movements it could only mean one thing: I had used too much blood and I was dangerously close to frenzy: to lose control and kill anyone in sight.

I descended deeper into the dungeons at a slower and more relaxed pace this time, knowing that there weren't any more windows ahead. The other reason why I was trying to be calmer was because it was the only way to avoid frenzying. I walked steadily passed the potions classroom. From there, the third door to the left leaded to the office I had been provided with. I walked to it, reached my hand to turn the knob and...

"My, my, my. What has kept you still awake, Robert?" I turned from the door and stared into the corridor to find that year's new potions professor: Horace Slughorn, the very definition of fatness. His voice was that of a concerned father, but I wasn't going to be fooled: although he was a likeable person, it was only his way of survival: to be friends with as many important, powerful or competent people as possible.

Me being a vampire that could choose to bite his precious neck; and the one who could upgrade the castle's defenses on the places he frequented the most where, provably, his two main reasons to befriend me. Even so, he was friendly: the least I could do is to be polite. "Got distracted working, the sun nearly got me this time."

Slughorn watched me, both smiling warmly and staring warily. "Haha, you certainly are a hard worker. You are exactly like Richard Avery. He was a student of mine, you know?" Oh, man... "A true workaholic to the bone. He'd never let anything for later, and his essays... Merlin's beard! I've never laid my hands on any essay half that good." Oh, craps! Already bragging about old students, just like I had expected someone like him would do... Well, it would be surely better to get through it and pretend to enjoy the chatter... "Poor Richard; he once fainted in class because he had spent all the previous week's nights gathering information for one of his fantastic essays..."

So, that was it? He was worried that I'd go and frenzy on him because of not having preserved enough blood. "Well," I remembered the fat man before me felt at home when people around him seemed familiar and uncaring about formalities. Calling him by his name was the best option. "Horace, as much as I'm enjoying this conversation, I'm afraid I've overdid myself tonight and, now, I'm a bit thirstier and more tired than usual." At hearing this, the human's heart rate increased. He was afraid of me: I could just bare my hands and drink his vitae... Mm... He smelled A-... Not too bad, but a bit spicier than I'd prefer... No! The professors in this school WEREN'T PREYS! I managed to avoid my voice from betraying what I had just thought. "If you'll excuse me, I'd like to sleep until I can go and hunt in the Forbidden Forest..."

"Oh, of course, of course. Er... Good morning?" Interesting, indeed: when someone goes to sleep, you usually say 'good night'but, for kindred, it's more usual to say 'good morning'. It's something I had had hard to learn as a normal thing to say: even a year after my Embrace I still had had to remind myself it was 'good morning' instead of 'good night'.

"Good morning to you too, Horace." With that said, I entered my office, locked the door and crawled into bed without even thinking about anything else. I fell asleep as soon as I was in bed.

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Well, that's all for chapter 5. Next will come in shortly (I think I should stop promising: I might not be able to keep all my promises true...) Will Robert have a pleasant sleep? You'll have to wait and see (maniacal, evil laughter).  



	6. A Vampire's Nightmares

**Author's notes:** This chapter is an especial tribute to the readers who have played the videogame; just because I think first hand experiences like the ones the main character in Bloodlines has to leave one a good share of nightmares. If you guys like it, let me know and I'll be sure to put more nightmare chapters later on -maybe I'll do so anyways, this is my fic, after all ;-D

**Lissa:** Thanks for the review, I really appreciate them. You are right: the caretaker's actual name is Filch. I'll make sure not to repeat the errors you mentioned again, thanks!

**Disclaimer:** (Touches huge bump on his forehead) Errr... I think it'll be best for my health not to say anything... Can we just pretend I've already disclaimed what had to be disclaimed, please? (Tries to get up to get an aspirin, but slips up and ends with his butt on the floor) Ouch! What'd I do this time?

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Kindred usually don't go to bed before making sure the area is safe and they aren't too thirsty. There's a reason to that: when a vampire is asleep, its internal defenses drop down and the beast may take over unless its instincts are satiated.

That is why I had told Slughorn I was thirsty and why I had locked the door to my office: now I was asleep, locked in a room too far away from any live being for the beast to catch any scent. For sure, the beast was now presumably controlling my body, but my previous actions were currently controlling what it did: without any threat to neutralize or any prey to hunt, the beast could only let me sleep.

And I did sleep, even if my sleep wasn't as dreamless as I'd like it to be: I was in a cab, paying the driver for the ride I had taken. I got out and, as soon as the taxi disappeared into the city's night, something hard impacted on the base of my skull, sending me flying three feet forward. Darkness.

I remembered fair well this event: it happened five years ago, not even a week after my embrace. I opened my eyes to see I was lying on the ground surrounded by three kindred, Sabbat, who were currently discussing what'd be the most painful fate they could place upon me: one suggested to stake me to the ground and leave me for the sunrise while another prompted to take my ears, tongue and teeth. I struggled to get up, in vain, and I decided to try and recall how did this event finish: Nines Rodriguez would show with a 45 and a grenade and scare the hell out of those losers...

The leader decided to drain me (although the Camarilla and the Anarchs find diablerie disgusting and revolting, the Sabbat do not share their point of view). Why wasn't Nines showing up? The leader had already grabbed me by the head and shoulder... He should have shoot the guy's head about thirty seconds ago... I realized number eight plus one wouldn't be showing his grenade tonight when I started blacking out as two sharp fangs pierced my neck's skin and flesh, entering into my jugular and stealing my precious blood: diablerie. Pain. Darkness.

I was now crouching, stealthily passing by a distracted police officer. The metallic walls around me were tainted with blood... Creepy. I went to my right, then up some ladders and left; to the ship's security room. I was aboard the Elisabeth Dane, following Prince Lacroix's order to find out what happened there. I introduced the password 'lighthouse' on the security server and accessed the deck's camera.

There it was: the Ankharan Sarcophagus. I knew it'd be closed, with blood everywhere, clean signs it had been opened from the inside all around, surrounded by the local authorities'... Corpses? What the..! The sarcophagus was open? With bloody footsteps directed towards the cabin... Someone, or something, hissed behind me. Oh, boy, this wasn't supposed to happen.

I turned just in time to see a walking, skeletal Antediluvian; provably the most powerful kindred alive and one of the first ever existed. Oh, man, he was supposed to be a myth, or to have suffered Final Death long ago... He disappeared from my sight and I could now hear him hissing behind me... This was bad... I felt something sharp stabbing through my spine and glanced down, only to see the Antediluvian's hand poking through my chest, holding my heart. My eyes widened in horror as I felt weaker than ever. A razor sharp claw tore my throat apart, causing my neck to become like a blood fountain. PAIN, in capital letters. Darkness.

I opened my eyes only to find myself on some sort of balcony, tied to the floor. What the? I had not a single memory about being tied on a balcony... Was I still dreaming? Or was it real? A man appeared in my field of view.

He was tall, thin, on his late fifties, wearing a brown coat and a crucifix around his neck. The scar on his right cheek I had inflicted him myself five years ago and his particular Russian accent left no room for mistakes: Bach! Grunfeld Bach... The vampire hunter smirked and, after telling me I was going to be cleansed, he sat down on a nearby chair. What the? I thought I had killed him on the Society of Leopold's underground tunnels! He sat on a nearby chair to watch this 'glorious moment'... My Final Death?

I struggled against my bonds only to find my efforts useless. Everything started to become brighter... The sunrise! I frenzied from fear and panic. The beast, along with even my conscious will, tried to break free, screaming and calling upon every thaumaturgy I could think about... But there was no blood to use.

I screamed as the first sun beams appeared from the horizon. I screamed as they touched my skin, scorching it without needing fire. I screamed as the sun filtered through my burnt skin and flesh into my bones. My throat was so sore I couldn't scream anymore as this process went from my feet upwards. I could feel the pain it all caused as the sun advanced to my chest.

Kindred who wish to end their unlifes usually walk into noon's sun and find a swift and almost painless Final Death, but the slow death caused by a sunrise is completely and horribly different, I found out. The sun reached my face almost an hour later, when I was ashes from knee-down. I didn't have any memory like this: was the pain real? Or just another nightmare? Was it... The end? Pain. I promised myself that, if it was just a nightmare, I'd never experience this for real: I'd suicide first. More pain. No... This couldn't be a simple nightmare: it was just too real, even for the nightmares I usually had. Higher levels of pain. Bach... Darkness.

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So, what do you think? Is it just an innocent nightmare? Or maybe not? Will Robert Kellehan ever wake up? Should I change the chapter's title for 'The End'? Or maybe I'll just continue from another POV?

Mmm... Haven't decided yet... (Remembers the two reviews) Ok, ok, this fic DOESN'T end on this chapter; but I truly haven't decided how to continue it: you see... I'm trying to write without sticking to a previously made script (it killed my fun writing 'Knights of Redemption') and I'm also trying to open as many questions as possible before starting giving the answers; so I truly don't have the slightest idea about how will it all end...

Bah, what we all really want is the next chapter to come A.S.A.P., soooo... Starting writing chapter seven in 3... 2... 1...


	7. What I Need

**Author's notes:** Well, now, what do we have here? Hmm... It wouldn't be fair to kill Robert this soon... Done! Hahaha! I know how to continue, I know how to continue! You wanna know? Then why aren't you reading the actual chapter?

(Reads chapter 6 again) Well, I suppose I'm not very good at writing nightmares... Will start watching horror films at night, stop doing my essays early and start listening 'tubular bells' while sleeping to learn how they are really like. Won't be writing nightmare chapters until I improve at it.

**Disclaimer:** (Holds tightly onto a crucifix recently bought on the cheap shop down the street) Fine... Let's do it... (Sweats heavily) IdontownHarryPotterorVampiretheMasqueradeBloodlinescharacterseventsplacesorotherideastheyareexplicitpropertyoftheirownownerslikeJKRowlingandActivisionImnotmakingprofitofsaidcharactersinanywaythisstoryispurellyfictionalanyressemblancewithrealstorieseventsorcharactersispurecoincidencePLEASEDONTSUEME! (uses oxygen bottle to help himself catch breath) Hey! I'm not dead! (looks at what he has just written) Ouch! Eh... It means... I don't own Harry Potter or Vampire the Masquerade Bloodlines characters, events, places or other ideas... (gets pricked by the crucifix) Auch! (censurer censures the author's next words)

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I woke up screaming. After a few seconds of watching my surroundings warily, expecting something to jump from nowhere in particular and land me a lethal blow, I realized I was back into the office where I had spend the whole day sleeping. My stomach ached wildly and I remembered I was starving ( for a vampire, thirst and hunger are the same: we only use the terms as degrees of the same necessity. Starvation is the highest level, when a kindred is in danger of frenzying if it doesn't feed).

Still remembering freshly the nightmares I had just had, I slid out of bed and proceeded to dress up when I found out I had fallen asleep fully dressed, even the shoes. "Must have been way more tired than first thought..." My whole body was sore and every tendon protested painfully whenever I tried to tense or relax any muscle.

I grunted disgusted at my sudden show of weakness: I had survived some direct attacks into Sabbat strongholds by myself, confronting a flesh crafter Tzimisce five or six generations older than me, a werewolf chasing my ass in Central Park, a Blood Hunt... Why did my body still protest so much after only doing a little more rituals than usual? I was pissed, and tired.

A knock on the door woke me up from my musings. "Mister Kellehan, are you awake?"

I sighed: McGonagall. I walked over the door, unlocked an opened it. "Yes?" She had, as always, her business-like trademark face. Her heart rate didn't betray any emotion, her aura... Seemed wary, maybe unnerved? What was wrong? Bah! Not my business: I only wanted to go and hunt.

"Professor Slughorn has informed me that you require to go hunt into the forest. Is that correct?" I nodded, not even caring to notice her facial expression or the ramified possibilities of my actions: I was too hungry to care and I just wanted to get this conversation over... I didn't interrupt her speech.

"I'm afraid this will not be possible, mister Kellehan." No hunt? Well, THAT got my attention. I was, needless to say, shocked. The beast, feeling this woman was between me and supper, tried to coax me into draining her and I had to remind myself McGonagall was not prey. "Come." We started walking Hogwarts' different hallways. Where to, I didn't know or care: I just tried to concentrate on which ones weren't glyphed yet. Man, I was really thirsty.

As if sensing my hunger and uneasiness, the witch started explaining her actions. "The centaurs, the main inhabitants of the Forbidden Forest, are extremely furious about, as they put it, having been used by our students to solve students' problems. They dropped negotiations for a peaceful solution this afternoon and, should they find any human inside their territory, they have warned they'll kill the intruder and start hostilities against Hogwarts and Hogsmeade. Dumbledore says they'll calm down but, as everything, it will take time."

Somehow, I managed to pick up the important part of her speech: the Forbidden Forest was now, well, forbidden. Out of the equation. No blood in the forest. Where else could I find a meal? Hogsmeade? "I'm... Too thirsty to hunt in the town: I'm pretty sure if I bite someone, I'll drain my prey dry... The fauna in the lake is too fast for me to catch... Is there any source of blood in Hogwarts? Maybe blood packs?" I gulped, there was one thing that a castle this big should have: "Rats?" Rat blood tastes horribly, but it's blood, after all.

McGonagall didn't stop walking, but gave me a... Pleased? Look. "I see you have more self control than I expected. Follow me." We were now climbing some stairs I hadn't previously noticed. I had to remind myself to put glyphs there too. Yeah, Robert, stick your mind to business... "We don't need any of those... Blood packs? And, though there surely are some rats within the school, it would be very difficult to find and catch them. We do have, however, a room that may fit your requirements quite enough."

"I doubt I'll find a blood bank in Hogwarts: this is not an hospital." My head seemed lighter than usual. Almost as if I had been beaten to death instead of having been sleeping... Shouldn't go to sleep this hungry again...

McGonagall stopped walking on the middle of a corridor in the castle's third floor. There wasn't any door nearby. "Focus your mind on what you require while you walk this hallway back and forth thrice."

"What!" To say that I was seriously thinking that she had some kind of mental instability would be an understanment: to walk a hallway back and forth? What for? Was it some kind of joke? Well, it sure as hell was not fun.

"Do you want your blood? Then do as I said." Her voice was calm, commanding, and left no room for discussion. Her aura didn't show any sign of amusement.

Lazily, I complied her request. After coming back the third time, as expected, nothing had happened. "Happy?" I hoped she was, because I certainly wasn't.

"I'm not your tormentor, Kellehan: right now, you are. If you want your requirement fulfilled, you've got to do exactly what I said." Didn't this woman understand that wishing for something doesn't make it appear in front of you, just like that? Sure, thaumaturgy is based on concentrating on what effects one desires to accomplish, but there is simply no thaumaturgy that can bring the user a whole pool full of blood.

Blood... Sweet and spicy, bitter and acid, soft and thick... All tastes of blood I had ever experienced crawled into my mind as I walked. Mmmm... Metallic, hot and reinvigorating red liquid... Intoxicating.

This time, when I stopped in the middle of the hallway, a door had appeared to my right, just across the woman. Curiosity and a familiar, lustfully intoxicant smell made me have to walk up the door and open it... "What the hell?" I was querying McGonagall, but not facing her: I couldn't keep my eyes off of what they saw in there.

"This is the room of requirement. You are free to use it as you need. Don't worry: its contents have been magically created, so they haven't been stolen from anywhere. There are no consequences of using this room."

I couldn't believe my eyes: before me, a mile square swimming pool. I couldn't see the bottom... The best of it: what was in the swimming pool? Water? Nooo... My legs trembled and the beast within howled in my head from excitement... Blood. More blood than I could drink or spend with thaumaturgy in a century: every kindred's dreamland was in front of my eyes. My mind only managed to formulate a last rational thought: "Is it edible?"

Behind of me, McGonagall answered my question with a simple one: "Why don't you try it yourself?"

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Ok, now, I'm sorry if chapters 6 and 7 aren't too long... Ok, they are VERY short: sorry. But I just find them impossible to fix: I keep writing and just find out the chapter must end where it is and I can't enlarge it. Perhaps a better writer would be able to, but when I can't, I just can't. Forgive me? Yes? Thanks! I'll... Let's see... Start chapter 8 right now! Title... Title... Hey! That's a secret! (Stops writing on chapter 7's file and starts on chapter 8) 


	8. Hogwarts Express

**Author's notes:** (Finishes reading 'Harry Potter 6' again) Mmm... There's no way there could be a vampire in Hogwarts with Harry looking at the map so much... Guess we'll have to send him out of school to start looking for the horcruxes... Ok! Read, enjoy and review!

**Disclaimer:** Not a single decent disclaimer so far... (Makes sure there are no stabbing or cutting objects in the room) I'm gonna do it well this time... (Lamp falls from the ceiling two feet to his left) ! Done, done: I've finished disclaiming, I swear! -for now. (Chair breaks and author falls flat on the floor) Fine: ha ha ha, very fun!

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"Ahh... I needed that..." I exited the blood pool I had been swimming in and used thaumaturgy to attract all the blood moistening my clothes into my mouth. In just a few seconds, I was completely dry. Three weeks had passed since the first time I had fed in that room and, having an infinite (at least, I thought it was) amount of blood to count on, I had been able to put glyphs nearly everywhere students used to go in Hogwarts: the four houses' common rooms, the Big Hall, the dining room, all the classrooms, the most direct hallways connecting them and, even, on some of the sun protected parts of the school's courtyard.

I closed the door to the room of Requirement letting it disappear, as always. "Ah, Robert. I see you're feeling better now." I didn't need to turn in order to know who's voice it was: only Albus Dumbledore had the powerful and nearly asphyxiating, but soothing aura I felt. Well, it didn't seem that strong, though: it left clear it had once been... But his aura seemed wounded, weakened, decayed. Maybe the age? "I hope you are in traveling condition? We can't afford losing more time."

Dumbledore was provably right: during the short time I had been on school, there had been, at least, seven reported Voldemort sightings. All of them in places where either muggles and wizards were found dead. "I'm good to go, headmaster." He always insisted on me calling him by his name, but, as long as I was a guest in the school, I saw more appropriate not to. "I'd just... Prefer to avoid apparating..." His gaze told me he knew and understood my reasons.

"Of course. You can take the Hogwarts Express on its ride back to King's Cross Station." The Hogwarts Express? Wasn't it the train students came to Hogwarts with? "I suppose you'll be able to enter the Express without being noticed by any student, won't you?" I nodded. "Excellent."

"I've made sure you have control over my enhancements on the defenses..." I handed the wizard a pitch black book. It had no label, no creases, no faded colors and no other distinctive details; it was just that: a black book, created with thaumaturgy. "Page thirteen. The glyph will only open at the school's headmaster's command." Dumbledore took the book without any further commentary or examination from his part. "About what you asked me to do... I've contacted with someone I worked with five years ago. She's the best necromancess I know; and has been studying magical connections with the death for more than two centuries. I believe she'll be helpful."

"Excellent. I'd advise you to try and acquire any information she may have about horcruxes and if they can be destroyed by any mean without suffering any drawback." I unconsciously glanced to the wizard's right hand. It was totally scorched, but not by any physical way. It had to be some sort of evil curse: Dumbledore's aura was much weaker and less calming at the wound, just as if another aura were trying to destroy his from the hand... Were I in his shoes, I'd be so freaked out I'd chop my hand off.

"I'll do that." Dumbledore guided me to the castle's main doors and thanked me for my assistance.

Half an hour later, I was crouching under the relatively uncrowded Express, waiting for the students to get out. One in particular caught my attention; not just because he left the train one of the lasts, but because that tall, blond boy's hand smelled slightly of... Blood? His aura wasn't too weak or too strong, nor too calming or too unnerving, but the guy just had this little something that gives you the creeps... Why?.. Hmm... The feeling didn't come directly from his aura... It came from his right wrist, which he covered with good effort... Interesting, indeed...

Bah, I remembered myself I hadn't been sent to investigate the students, but to neutralize possible threats to their lives. When no one was looking, I entered the train casual-like. Deciding my best chance was to enter a department I had previously noticed had its curtains closed, I walked towards it, but stopped just before the door: a wizard aura, inside. Whose? It had a very good potential and was rather developed for a non-adult; but, then again, it was undoubtedly a teenager's...

By the aura's appearance, it seemed as if its owner were lying down... Careful not to make any noise, I leaned against the door. That smell... Blood? Again? Just where was I in? Wasn't it a scholar express? Then, why were two students smelling of blood? Wait a minute... The aura... That scent... Harry Potter? I returned to a standing stance on the corridor's center. The boy Dumbledore wanted safe? The geezer was, obviously, doing a veeery 'good job'. I passed the door and entered the third to the right.

Without losing any time, I closed the curtains and the door. Then, I cut my wrist and painted a glyph on the floor with my blood. Afterwards, I let a blood drop fall on its center which expanded in a circular motion, filling the whole glyph in red. "Hogwarts, Dumbledore."

The glyph's surface started to darken and darken, until it got pitch black: the book I had given the wizard was closed. "Dumbledore?" I could hear the sounds of someone stopping to write and leaving the feather on its place. The book opened and I was looking straight at Hogwarts' headmaster. "Potter's here. I believe he's got a beating and has been paralyzed; but I can't help him without being seen."

"Thank you, Robert. I'll send a witch to retrieve young Harry at once." That 'don't be noticed' policy was starting to be frustrating: I was already here, but I could do nothing... Lucky me it wouldn't be always the same... "Please, keep him safe until then." And he closed the book.

What was I going to go? The train would be leaving soon... The conductor! Had he passed yet? I started looking for any aura... There he was, making sure no one was left... Damn! Using ignem, I destroyed the glyph so it wouldn't be noticed. The aura was approaching... Technically, I wasn't here... What could I do?

If I were a Nosferatu or a Malkavian, I'd just Obfuscate and no one would see me as long as I were in the shadows... Damn it! The aura was just in front of the door... Wait a second: he was bored and lazy... He really didn't expect to find anybody. Maybe... I was very poor at it, but Domination was the only way... I stayed at the department's very center, focusing.

The man was going to open the door, but even before he do so, I started using my Domination on him: "**Why look here? There's nothing relevant: this room's just like the last one."** He opened the door? Maybe his mind was stronger than I thought... Ok, now he was looking at me awkwardly: the shock of something unexpected, the point where the mind's defense drops the lowest just before getting on guard. He had seen me. I had to make him think it was normal. **"Hello, may I help you, sir?"**

"Ehh..." He looked at me expressionlessly, like if he was a bit idiot... Gotcha! It was working! "Yes, may I see your ticked, sir?" Damn it! I should have expected him to do that on a 'normal meeting'...

I had to think fast... **"But, if you have already seen it: it says clearly I go to King Cross Station, platform 9 3/4. Don't you remember?"** It was the best I could think about... I just hoped it'd be enough... I increased my concentration, using more blood.

The poor guy's expression returned to a normal one once again. Ups. Screwed up... "Oh, yes, I remember now. Have a nice night, sir." With that, he closed the door and I sat on the nearest seat, exhausted from the tension. It had worked! I had Dominated someone! Wow... THAT was cool: why hide if you're always allowed?

Now I understood why Max always congratulated me on my improvements on thaumaturgy but insisted that I should learn some Domination... Any kindred can do blood magic (although only Tremere know how to, and we keep it that way), but Domination... It was a natural power for Tremere, along with some other clans. Why not learn to use it well, if it was rightfully mine?

Some dominators could even make a whole bunch of humans do as they said, even suicide... Why hadn't I trained myself more on this discipline? A mistake that nearly got me busted out of the train. It wouldn't happen again: I'd enhance my knowledge on Domination. I should be able to use it better than I shoot my ACPs...

A slapping sound on the corridor woke me up from my musings: someone was there... Potter's aura was still on his place... The conductor hadn't seen him? Who was out there? I grabbed my wand and got out of my compartment, only to find a female human looking for something through the doors' windows.

She was young, but her aura didn't reflect the optimistic and energetic behavior she should have: it emitted unnerving sensations... Sorrow? Loss? Anger? I wasn't sure. Her heart rate was either heavy and tired, or steadily calculated so she wouldn't attract attention, I didn't know: it wasn't easy do distinguish. Was she the one Dumbledore had to send... Or someone else? Was she friend or foe? I couldn't take any risks: I'd have to play safe.

I stalked behind the woman, grabbed her wand with my left hand and put my own wand on her throat with the right one. I pocketed her wand and used my free hand to twist her am behind her back, immobilizing the human. The wandless witch struggled faintly, but realized my grip was too strong and decided to wait for me to speak.

I needed to know her identity, and to make sure she told me the truth... Maybe I should mix a normal interrogatory with dominance? **"Who are you and why are you here?"**, I whispered to her ear, trying Potter not to hear us. The witch's mind was ready for a mental attack: I could feel my efforts being rebuked. Well, you can always try harder.

My grip on her arm tightened and I lifted her wrist a little bit, giving her a warning about me being able to break her arm easily. The wand on her throat was pointed towards her jugular, dangerously but carefully pressing to the point it menaced to stab into her. Fear and the shock caused by a suddenly dangerous situation you expected to be easy can lower one's defenses.

Also, I concentrated as much as I could, incremented the use of blood and formulated a simpler command: the simpler, the easier. **"Answer me."** This time, though my Dominance still found the same resistance and I was sure the witch's mind wasn't in my control, she relaxed a little bit (not too much: my grip wasn't very comfortable) and whispered a response to my questions.

"I'm Nymphadora Tonks, Dumbledore sent me." Neither her aura or heart rate betrayed any sign of deception, or even hostile intentions. "You Kellehan, right? He said you contacted him with a... Gleef? He asked me to take Harry to Hogwarts." Well, her story was completely believable, and it wasn't as if I could double-check everyone: I'd have to trust the woman.

"Sorry." I let her go and returned the stolen wand to its owner. "Potter is in that compartment over there. I believe he may be wounded or incapacitated: he hasn't even called for help." The train started moving. Damn it! Why did matters always get worse on me... "You should apparate him out at once."

The witch looked at me strangely... "Then, why haven't you done it yourself?" Oh! She thought I was a 'normal' wizard...

Then, I didn't have time to start that 'boooh, Vampire!' crap all over again. "I'm just following my orders: technically, I'm not here. Not a single student must see me." Her aura showed she was now at a defensive state: she didn't buy my story? But I had said the truth... "Dumbledore's orders. Ask him if you don't believe me."

It's difficult to apparate while being on a moving platform, and impossible to apparate to Hogwarts." It was obvious she had planned to pick Potter up and leave before the train started. "Any advise?"

I shrugged, "You can always jump. I'll try to levitate both of you a little so you don't get too hurt; but don't expect much."

"Ok, something's better than nothing, I suppose." While she walked to the boy's door, I returned to the compartment where I had previously been and closed the door. Next, I sat on the floor, crossed my legs and closed my eyes.

Neither Potter or Tonks' auras showed any sign of hostility or wariness to each other: excellent. They were nearing a lateral door that would lead them outside the Hogwarts Express... I concentrated on what I wanted to happen and felt some of my blood disappeared form my veins: my motus was ready for them to jump.

When they did so, I used motus to try and make them float safely to the ground... My efforts only managed to avoid them a few scratches: using motus over an unseen target is more difficult than what I was used to. I'd have to train more. The humans, though, were alright and disappearing from my sensorial range, so I reopened my eyes, got up and picked up a book I hadn't noticed earlier from under the front seat: The Spells I Use The Most, by someone called Gilderoy Lockhart.

"Never heard the name." The whole front cover was, in truth, a moving picture of some Hollywood movie hero- like guy posing as if he was going to cast a very powerful spell. Pure exaggeration... Well, I've never judged a book for its cover, so I wasn't gonna pass the opportunity to get my hands on some good info just because I didn't like the front picture.

A student forgetting his text book here was something to expect: this was a school train, after all. This one's last page, in particular, advised its reading for third year students... "Well, as long as I leave it just where it was, nobody's gonna get harmed." I sat down and started doing the one thing nobody has never told me I don't do well enough: read.

It turned out the author had a great ego problem, and it was a little difficult to find the actual information from between all those side anecdotes that filled the book up like if its was My Most Boring And Senseless Stories, by Gilderoy Lockhart. There were, though, good explanations of every spell and curse's effects, as long as good illustrations... From G.L.'s immaculately broad smile.

I summoned a piece of paper and wrote down my own notes of the ones which attracted my attention the most: I'd have to study them later, but I wouldn't have the book to do so.

_Lumos:_ light, like a lamp. Must do a half moon movement with the wand. No similar thaumaturgy:useless to me.

_Alohomora:_ to unlock doors. Must do a keyhole motion; lower left to up towards right. I could try using motus on the keyhole mechanism... Hard.

_Wingardum leviosa:_ to levitate objects towards the desired direction. Must do an horizontal feather movement: left, right, left. It only required motus as it is: extremely easy for me.

_Protego:_ a simple magical shield that protects from simple curses. Must do a medieval shield motion; from left and up to right and then down. Thaumaturgy had something very similar: protego; but it was more like a full blood armor: I'd have to be careful. Not a resource to rely on.

_Reparo:_ to fix things, if they aren't too difficult. Must do a spiraling movement, like if screwing up. I would have to use alchemy to turn the broken part into a still liquid, use motus to put the pieces together and alchemy to solidify them again; very fast: technically, it was considered a very easy and fast spell... Extremely hard.

_Anapneo: _to clear a person's airways. Not needed motion. It could be faked by using motus to pull everything blocking them out. Hard: I'd have to be careful with what I was pulling.

_Obliviate:_ to make someone forget something. Must do a spiraling movement: down, left , up, right, down, left and up; outwards. I'd have to learn Domination if I wanted to do that... For an average dominator, easy. For me, very hard.

_Incendio:_ to create fire. Must draw a fire symbol on the air. Easy to fake with basic ignem. Easy.

_Aguamenti:_ to do the same with water. No necessary wand motion. Could be faked with basic tempestas, but I'd have to be careful not to let anyone see the rain cloud. Moderate difficulty.

_Flagrate:_ to draw lines of fire with the wand. Must wave the direction the lines have to follow. Easy to fake with ignem; but I'd have to make sure I waved properly. Average difficulty.

_Homorphus:_ to force a werewolf to revert to human form. No further explanation. Oh, I wished I could do that.

_Expelliarmus:_ to disarm someone. The sight movement done with the wand indicates where the foe's wand will jump to. I could use real fast motus. Not too hard.

_Stupefy:_ to knock someone out. No needed motion. A good telekinetic blow should do the trick, but I'd have to make sure it was well placed. Hard.

The Express continued its journey while I examined those spells carefully. It was true: not a single of them was close to any other clan's disciplines. Only a Tremere could fake as a wizard... If said Tremere was actually capable of remembering everything: it seemed rather comical to me to go everywhere using flashy wand movements whenever I used blood magic.

Lucky me: I wouldn't have to fake as a wizard for a while, yet. I continued studying the book's contents until the train came to a stop.

Then, I left it where I had first found it and put the piece of paper on an inside pocket of my coat. I left the Hogwarts Express and King Cross Station, heading towards the district where the Nagaraja had invited me to.

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So, how did you like it? Good? Bad? -**"No, it's not bad at all: it's excellent, an awesome chapter."- **(Glances around.) Ok, ok, I'm not a Tremere: I can't dominate anyone... I know this chapter may be a little boring, but theory always is and a trip on the Hogwarts Express can't have much action, either.

All the spells are truly from the HP series -see mugglenet-, so everyone can borrow them for their own fanfics.

For next chapter... I've got something creepy in stock... Want to know what BEFORE I post it? Jejeje... Try and find out what is a Nagaraja. R&R!


	9. Pisha, the Nagaraja

**Author's notes: **Sorry for the delay, ladies and gentlemen, but I really wanted to write a good and long chapter, for once. I provably won't be writing chapters this long in a while, so read, enjoy and... For God's sake, REVIEW! I LOVE REVIEWS! I WANT REVIEWS!

**WARNING!** Gory scenes. This chapter contains detailed gore that may be considered as... Let's say unpleasant... For certain individuals.

**Disclaimer:** Why do I always have to write these? Doesn't anybody care about my health? Well, I own nothing. NOTHING! If I owned Harry Potter or Vampire: the Masquerade, this story wouldn't be fanfic, and it would be safely protected with author copyrights, federal and international laws and its only copy would be secured inside a indestructible safe protected with heavy machine gun turrets and voice, digital print, retina checks and and coded hyper security system that I don't know if even exists.

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The district I was in now had never had a very good reputation, but... This... Was something utterly unexpected. What could have made a whole district so much? The Nosferatu disk didn't say anything about that... Had the district started its rundown spiral because of the giant attacks wizarding newspapers reported? Or because of the tornadoes the muggle ones stated?

According to what I had learned, this area had been one of the firsts to become a wizards / dark wizards battlefield, and still was. It was obvious the war hadn't been good for the quarter, but that much? I certainly wouldn't like to see what kind of battle could run a whole district this down in so little time. I kept walking while I furtively examined what had become of the area.

Decayed buildings painted with the local gangs' logos, drug dealers selling their customers Ms. Death in blue pills in the abundant shadows and secluded corners... A high percentage of the city's homeless population illegally residing those buildings so rundown not even their rightful owners cared about what happened there... Low life 'ladies' showing off more skin than justice would allow a non-adult to see... Yonkies lying on the different buildings' front door stairs... More vagabonds sitting around improvised fireplaces on the streets, wrapping and warming themselves with the heat provided by old newspapers...

Thieves, muggers, robbers and assassins, amongst other society scum of likes, stalking their next preys from the shadows... No wonder why the taxi driver had advised me against this destination and why he had rejected to leave me closer from the point I had asked him for! Even I, being a vampire and capable of starting a massacre right there if needed, felt a bit intimidated by that place.

It didn't take me long to understand why my contact had decided to install herself in a district like that one: the environment was just ideal for her... Nutritional... Tendencies: nobody would be too surprised if someone disappeared there. If she was careful enough, she'd be able to even have free meals thanks to the locals' criminal customs. Sometimes, I felt... Disgusted... When I thought about such things.

Not that I condemned or felt repulsed by what she did: were I in her shoes, I'd surely end up doing just the same to survive. What made me feel awkward and wonder just how much humanity remained within me was that, somehow, I had come to think of her feeding needs as something... Somebody shut me up before I say 'natural'... Most kindred found it disgusting, why didn't I mind anymore?

"Hey, honey, looking for a date?" Apparently, I had approached one of the local 'professionals' too much and, since my clothes revealed I wasn't exactly like her neighbors, she had decided I was a customer. The woman was wearing high heeled boots and a very tight black leather catsuit with its fly on the front, half opened, leaving an exaggerated V that she was trying me to notice by leaning towards her possible customer to let me have a peek. She was really trying hard to get me aroused.

"Hmm..." I carefully sniffed her blood scent: no trace of non-human blood... Prey. Amazing as it may be, neither her aura or scent alerted me of her having any disease... Prey. I could smell she had a healthy amount of blood; not too properly fed, but healthy enough... Prey! Hell, I HAD had a feast at Hogwarts that same night, but the use of thaumaturgy and, especially, Domination (which I couldn't control too well, causing me to burn my blood faster) had left me slightly hungry. The prostitute had managed to accomplish arousing me... The wrong way. "I may be, but I'm afraid you might be a little out of my reach..." It wasn't that I wished to spend too much, after all.

"Oh, come on..." I might be wishing to keep as much of my money as I could, but the woman wanted some too. Feeling that she had a good business at hand, she leaned closer and sneaked an arm around my neck, letting me have a full sight of her upper cleavage... And a better position to smell her blood: AB, if I wasn't mistaken. "If you gave me a little present," she raised her other hand in front of my face and put together her thumb and index finger. "So little as, say, twenty pounds or so -I'm just giving an example- I'd be soooo happy..."

Just twenty? What a bargain! For a blood pack with half the blood I was going to drain her I usually had to spend fifty bucks... I reached for my wallet and gave her the amount she had asked me for. "I warn you: I tend to bite." Obviously, the hooker hadn't understood the truth that laid behind my warning, for she simply laughed and pulled me into the nearest darkened alley.

"Come on, I'm sure you're a biiig boy... Show me what's you've got," she purred. I hugged her to make sure her knees wouldn't fail when I was having my supper, kissed her on the mouth and prolonged our kiss to build up her passion.

I massaged the woman's back with my hands, trailing kisses from her mouth to her chin and throat, following the jugular vein. I reached her collar bone and followed it towards her shoulder while she unzipped her suit enough to reveal everything from her shoulders to her breasts' upper half.

"Hey, it was you who payed, honey... Mmh..." Smiling, I continued my kissing ministrations from there up her neck's side, alternating kisses with feather nibbles; until I reached the point I had previously discovered where her vein was the nearest to her skin... There didn't seem to be any nearby nerve...

I reached my right hand to the back of her head and my left one to her upper back. Once I was sure dinner wouldn't fall, my fangs pierced through her skin, sinking into her warm body. Slightly bitter, but intoxicatingly warm and metallic liquid started flowing into my mouth immediately. So, she truly was AB, after all... I kept sucking until my hunger subsided, confident that my prey'd be able to satiate the not so big need I had without endangering her health.

When I was done, I carefully placed the unconscious human on the ground. Thinking twice about leaving her as she was, I zipped her suit up in order to preserve her body heath a bit better. Afterwards, I got up and started walking the street down again: the meeting point was just around the next corner. I kept walking, passed a silent, auraless, shadowy place and reached the point to find... Nothing. I'd have to wait...

Or maybe not: it didn't take long for me to hear slow, unsteady footsteps behind me. As if to erase any doubt of the steps' owner's identity from my mind, a rotting smell reached my nostrils and an incoherent, throaty mumbling came from the mouth of whoever was behind me. "So, Pisha, have you decided to let our meeting commence? Or have you decided I'm not welcome in your territory anymore?"

"Gwahuahuu..." I turned to see a middle aged, toothless man. His unshaved and dirty face, along with his clothings didn't reveal any health issue and, if it weren't because of his absence of aura, no heart beats and no capability to speak, you'd say I was just before some random wanderer, who was only minding his business.

In some way, he was: this wanderer corpse's only business now was doing what his mistress told him to do. He couldn't understand me, nor could I receive any coherent word from his part, but his mistress saw what he saw and heard what he heard.

No teeth or long nails: this zombie's function wasn't to fight or scare me out. Then, he was either the official welcoming committee, or a bait to lead me into an ambush. There was only one way to find out, though. "Please, lead the way." The undead man walked past me and started moving ill-balanced through the different rundown streets. Following him, I started extending my senses in order to try and feel Pisha's aura before I met her: I wanted to know if we were still in good terms or, as she told me it might happen next time we met, she now considered me an enemy.

We entered one of the buildings that looked the most likely to collapse just because of a gentle breeze and the zombie guided me through the different hallways, letting itself fall to the lower levels each time it arrived any hole on the floor. We were now inside the third basement. "Uawahhgwah..." It pulled a broken table that was on the nearest wall, revealing a...

No... Damn it! It was... a very narrow ventilation pipe, about two feet wide per one and a half tall. I'd be able to fit, but it was just so... Suddenly, the walls around me appeared to start advancing to the room's center. The room now seemed narrow and closed, and the only useful exit was through a tinier place: I couldn't bring myself to find the hole from where I had jumped here...

My veins dilated and, though kindred don't need to breathe, I started hyperventilating uncontrollably. The beast hadn't done anything to increase this sensation, as strange as it may seem, but it was pleased and fast asleep from the recent extra meal it had had. "You... You don't expect me to go through there, do you?"

As if to respond to my question, Pisha retired her hold onto the corpse, letting it fall flat dead once again... And leaving me in my predicament. "Great, just great!" I swallowed hard, walked towards the opening I feared, crawled and looked inside... "Why can't it be a pack of very pissed werewolves?" Sighing, I crawled into the metallic opening and started advancing, ever so slowly, between the restrictive and rusty metallic walls that now surrounded me... Imprisoned me...

The beast was now struggling as hard as if I were deathly threatened. It tried co either take over or cut me off of my surroundings. Wasn't the situation bad enough as it was? Why did the beast have to wake up and get the matters worse?

Dragging myself along the ruined ventilation system resulted to be both easier and more frustrating than I had first expected: it was rather easy to find the correct path inside the mace those pipes formed because Pisha's aura was straight ahead, so there was no way I could get lost.

The irritating part was that, apparently, Pisha wasn't in the same building her zombie had led me to, so I had to crawl all the way through the narrow, dark and rusted ventilation system to get to her. The silence was deafening and the fact of being caged down there, between four metallic walls that didn't even let me room to turn back, below several feet of soil, below the pavement, without seeing any possible exit... Pisha'd best have a good excuse: I felt homicidal.

After advancing through the pipe for what seemed like ages, though, my homicidal tendencies gradually started fading away at remembering that I had been the one who had contacted her and that Pisha had always preferred to hide in places of difficult access (at least, it had been so when I met her five years ago). The ventilation system thing was something I just should have expected... I dragged myself forward a little bit more.

Plus, Pisha was a two hundred and thirty five years old Nagaraja, which meant she had had time to polish her necromancy skills and learn other ways to defend herself along the way. Attempting to kill the Nagaraja would suppose to have to go through hordes of her zombies just to end up injured, tired and fighting an older, perfectly healthy kindred (if I survived that much, that is). Not too smart. I extended my arms, put them on the metallic surface ahead of me and pulled. Two feet less of tunnel ahead.

I repeated the process once more. Twice. Thrice... Eight times. Nine. Ten. Eleven... This was getting old, and the uptenth times cursed claustrophobia didn't lessen... I had passed, at least two turns to the left and three to the right; plus five branches which I had passed without hesitation: Pisha's aura was ahead, and the rotting stench that came from these parallel tunnels made me think they were traps for undesired visitors.

And I, surely, wasn't: Pisha had been able to kill me whenever she wanted for a long while by now. What was making me think so? Well, the noises and smell behind me were a clear indication that she had one of her... Servants... Both watching me closely and sort of pushing me forward. She could have a single corpse appear in front of me all of a sudden and I wouldn't stand a chance. If a doctor were to look for my heart, he'd find it in my stomach. I pulled further.

And found my pass blocked by something. I couldn't see what it was, so I reached for thaumaturgy and used ignem to lit a tiny flame in the palm of my hand... The fire allowed me to see a skinless, half devoured face staring me blankly. My natural reaction to such a vision left me with a terrible headache and surrounded by the echoes of something colliding with metal. "Ouch!"

Once I managed to calm myself down (which, by the way, didn't take so long), I realized I had lost the concentration on ignem and, thus, the fire had disappeared, leaving me in the darkness again. Neither corpse before or behind me had attacked.

I lit the fire again and watched intently the cadaverous barricade blocking my pass: a middle aged woman. Judging by the absolute lack of skin and the little amount of flesh left, she had been devoured until only the muscles her mistress would need the zombie to have in order to work were left. Her half eaten right arm was resting between us, "Warhgouh..." her right hand was pointing to the opening to her left, my right. Once I moved the fire towards said opening, I heard a dumb thud: Pisha had removed her control over the middle aged corpse because it had already accomplished its mission.

Well, it wasn't as if I had a saying about the route to follow... I decided to turn off the fire before continuing and advanced to my right. The faint contact between the signalization zombie and my left knee as I did so sent chills through my spine. From my new position, though, the beast within howled in joy: ahead, the pipe's surface was tainted with light and scent of recently spilled blood. The exit was nearby. I wanted out, right then. I sped forward.

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**WARNING! GORY SCENES AHEAD! STOP READING IF YOU FIND GORE DISTURBING OR YOU ARE UNDERAGE. YOU'VE BEEN WARNED.

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"That's better." The words escaped my lips as soon as I got out of the trillion times damned ventilation system. Chewing, liquid spilling and bone breaking sounds could be heard from not too far away. I glanced around to see Pisha's new residence: bare brick walls covered with dust, half eaten corpses from previous meals on the floor, lined on the walls (some had already started their decomposition process, sending waves of rotting stench to the air) and a single doorless doorframe that led to the room's only exit: a hallway.**

Feeling better than a few seconds before, I proceeded forward, through the corridor, and passed the curtain on its end to meet my hostess...

There she was: white blueish skin under a skin tight green dress, middle back long hair tied up in a ponytail; lower arms, hands and all of her torso spilled with blood. She was just before a table were a man on his early twenties was lying still. She was bent over the young man, her face on... In... His stomach, making slurping sounds and causing blood to flow freely out of the recent corpse's tummy. "Bon appéttit."

At hearing my voice, the Nagaraja stopped munching, stood up and swallowed the intestine piece that hung from her mouth. "Thank you." Her eyes didn't betray surprise or displeasure by my presence. "I'd invite you to join me but, fortunately for you, I'm the only one here who needs to eat flesh to avoid rotting."

Small talk. Well, I supposed I had time for it. "What can I say? I'm lucky -am I interrupting you?" Diplomacy and politeness would have to be my weapons if I wanted the Nagaraja to accept helping me: Voldemort's killings might be a very tempting offer to one of her clan. I didn't have such a good bargaining position... Pisha smiled and tore her meal's trousers off. I won't describe what she did with that particular clothe out of her way, but she did find a good mouthful of... Flesh... That the man would never need as a zombie.

I felt glad not to be classified as lunch by the kindred before me. "Not if you don't mind if I continue having my supper." I waved her to continue and she inserted her hand into the cadaver's stomach to the elbow. "Say... You were just an outcast neonate when we last met. Have you been accepted into your clan's pyramid, yet?" With the last word, she yanked something from inside the corpse's thorax and blood started overflowing his stomach as she extracted the guy's heart.

"Oh, yeah, they've even declared me fully fledged." Seeing that Pisha had her mouth too occupied to talk right then, I took the opportunity to continue speaking and redirect the subject slightly to try and make this simple message reach her mind: doing business with me is good. "I wouldn't have made it if it weren't for the items you gave me, though. Had to use the Odious Chalice more than once to avoid frenzying. What about you?" The Nagaraja had just gulped the heart and was now licking her fingers.

"Well, the Voce di Morte and the fetish statue you retrieved for me have really proved very useful for me to progress in my investigations, as you may have noticed." Puzzled, I gave the kindred a quizzical look. She shrugged and proceeded to drink up the red liquid in the man's stomach. It didn't take her more than a few seconds. "Well, as you have surely realized, my newest zombies don't need to have a full body: I can eat up the muscles I don't need them to have. Furthermore, I have found in the book an interesting page that explains how to really control the zombies instead of just commanding them what to do."

Pisha sat the corpse up and used her claws (yes, kindred nails can become so hard they can be considered claws) to open its cranium, revealing its contents. The female necrofagus pouted, disappointed at what she saw. "Dry already? I didn't realize he had bled so much..."

"Here," I took the Odious Chalice out of its plastic bag and handed the obscure item to the Nagaraja, "it's O+." Pisha smiled, took the Chalice, squeezed it over the dead brain and stopped only once her meal was wet enough for her taste.

"Thank you." She handed me the Chalice back and as I was returning it into the bag, she greedily devoured the gray matter as if it were her favorite kind of jelly. "Ahhh... Much better..." Pisha's skin color faded into a more healthy one and I could feel in her aura the satisfaction of being full: she had finished, for now. "Right now, I've centered my studies into some of the charms and rituals of modern wizarding society. Mmm... Do you wish to do business again?"

Time to start showing one's cards... "Well, that's exactly why I've contacted you: I need to find and learn how to destroy certain objects related to your specialization field." Wrong words: Pisha's expression didn't change at all; but her aura proved she was preparing to use her powers. The Nagaraja wasn't exactly pleased that I wished to destroy something she might want to study. "Objects that are maintaining someone alive even after his death. He's an enemy of my clan and I can't defeat him until these objects have been neutralized," I quickly added.

Pisha didn't move, nor did anything that I could hear. The only audible sound was produced by the constant, although thin, flow of blood that was falling from the corpse between us down his arm. When the blood arrived the body's index finger, it fell, drop by drop, into a nearly full jar that was awaiting on the floor. "What objects are we talking about?"

"Horcruxes." Pisha's aura shrank as she relaxed.

"Horcruxes?" She started laughing slightly, "And here I was thinking you'd ask me to destroy a Soul Catcher or a Life Reaver; maybe even a Death Seal..."

"So... You don't mind if an horcrux is destroyed?" The Nagaraja's aura couldn't conceal the amusement she felt at my ignorance. Why did every elder kindred seem to know exactly what I was going to say or do even before I had thought about it? Damn it!

"It seems you don't fully understand what you're facing." You don't understand... You don't know... "Do you know what an horcrux is?" Always the same.

"It's piece of one's soul hidden into an object that makes its owner come back to life even after death, isn't it?" So frustrating...

"Sort of." Well... At least, she wasn't going to give me a lecture about my ignorance...

"Then, why don't you mind them?" This seemed to me, at least, the best thing I could say.

"Because I already have my sire's annotations about them: kindred cannot make horcruxes, and an horcrux only serves to he who has created it. But... There aren't many people who'd wish to rip a piece of their soul apart... Nor there are too many people who'd wish to risk to destroy one..."

Hey, stop there! Risk? What was the threat of attempting to break one of those things? "Why?" I had to know.

"Souls are not destroyed that easily: just a mere fragment is enough to cause great injuries, or even death, to anyone who tries to destroy it..."

Excellent. Excellent, just my luck! Now I had to do something that would bring me my Final Death... "So, they are indestructible?"

Pisha's blood stained finger went to her cheek and her head titled to the side as she tried to remember something. "No... I reckon someone came to me searching for something he needed to do so... A human... I don't remember well his full name, although I believe it started by Richard... He always called himself 'auror' Broadsword..."

Broadsword? Richard Broadsword... Where had I heard that name? Damn it, I was sure I had heard, at least, a similar name... Bah! Nonsense to keep wondering about that: for the time being, I just needed one thing: "Do you know how to find an horcrux?"

"Yes. I'll give you information of the whereabouts of every horcrux that I find and how to destroy them in exchange for information of equal value to my studies."

"Such as?" Pisha laughed. Why do they always have to find everything I say so damn funny?

"I believe you misunderstood me here, mister Kellehan. This time, I won't be telling you exactly what I want: you'll have to surprise me." While she was talking, the Nagaraja had been walking towards my position, all the way swaying her hips a little too... Much.

Having seen her eating made me feel more and more caged as she did so. "I see. So... You're looking for charms and rituals of the modern wizarding society related to the Death, is that correct?"

The amusement in her aura told me Pisha was receiving exactly the reaction she wished. "Indeed. Do you accept these terms?"

In my mind, the answer was simple and clear: her conditions were really good for me. "Pisha, you've got a deal."

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And... That's it for chapter 9. I'll try to upload the next one ASAP. Of course, reviews will help me write faster... 


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